Dog Tags
by fabalafae22
Summary: Despite Tony's anxiety problems, he and Bruce are in a committed relationship. With the traumatic events that happened not too long ago, they're both experiencing confusing feelings, and no matter how much they desperately want to hide under work or a pleasant romance, they will simply have to learn how to fight their inner demons together. (I would love some reviews!)
1. Blowing Off Steam

_I'm going to die. This is it, I can feel it. I can f- where's the suit? WHERE IS IT. Fuck, I'm going to-_Tony's mind races and his breath quickens until he can feel himself slipping. He leans against the wall, sweat seemingly pouring from his body. Tony collapses to the floor with a heavy thud, still vigilant.

Bruce rushes over. "Tony! Can you hear me? Tony!"

Tony's chest is heaving, yet he feels it constricting quickly. _I can't breathe. I can't-_He gasps for air.

Bruce crouches down to Tony's eye level. "Tony. Listen to me. Everything is just fine; I'm here." He dictates slowly, then drops to a whisper. "I'm here. You're okay, I promise."

Tony can feel his heart slowing down and his breathing is somewhat back to normal. He tries to say something - anything, really - but the words seem to disappear at his lips, and he's left spluttering. _How embarrassing._

"Shhh..." Bruce strokes Tony's smooth, albeit somewhat sweaty, forehead. "It's alright; I know. Do you want to talk about it? Maybe that will make it better." He tries to appear open and diffident. Banner leans in to embrace the broken philanthropist now that he is calmer.

With his torso now wrapped in Bruce's arms, Tony's ambivalence of appreciative and agitated - almost resentful - feelings toward Bruce suddenly become as unbearable as his previous anxiety; he frees himself from Banner's embrace and turns away. "Later, okay?"

"Okay," Bruce agrees tenderly, with a hint of concern in his voice - enough of a hint to produce tears in Tony's eyes as he saunters off.

_I can't cry in front of Bruce. I just can't_.

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"Do you have to feed that thing here?" Tony whines, staring at Ralphie, Bruce's new lab rat.

"What? Yes, Tony, I have to feed him here. Is that a problem?"

"Well, you've got him all over the counter and just - he's going for the coffee maker. Bruce! He's go-"

Bruce picks up the rat and places him on top of the coffee maker, much to Tony's disgust.

"He's filthy." Tony wrinkles his nose, which amuses Bruce more than anything.

"No, he's not. Actually, contrary to popular belief, rats are remarkably clean anim-"

"I know, alright? I know. I'd just prefer him not to be on the counter, okay?" In a huff, Tony turns back to his tablet to read the news.

"It's alright, Ralphie," Bruce coos, placing the rat back in his cage. "Tony's just in a mood today; he doesn't sleep much." Bruce glances at Stark, who is glaring at him and the rat from the kitchen table.

Tony scoffs and drains his mug of coffee.

Turning from the cage, Bruce sidles behind Tony and begins stroking his soft, dark mass of tangled hair. "Anything good today?" Bruce gestures to the article Tony appears fixated on.

"Nah. I mean, same old."

"Oh, okay. You want to, um, help me in the, uh, shower then?" Bruce murmurs shyly yet seductively.

Tony leans back and tilts his head up to face Bruce. He grins. "Sure."

Bruce tries to walk as nonchalantly as possible upstairs to the shower. _Wouldn't want to appear too eager. _But Tony is already bounding up the stairs and passing Bruce, spanking Banner's buttocks on the way up. Bruce laughs and follows Tony up to start the water. Once they're both in the bedroom, Tony begins undressing the scientist; he removes his t-shirt and works his way down. Bruce begins removing Tony's battered grey tank top - which seems to be disintegrating on its own.

Grinning devilishly, Tony wraps his arms around Banner's middle, until so much flesh is touching it's impossible _not_ to have an erection. Bruce blushes a furious red, moving in for a kiss.

Tony stops him. "Shower," he urges.

"Hey, you started it."

"You're such a kid," Tony teases.

The two men slip into the warm water, feeling the steam and warm water grace their bodies. Stark then takes some conditioner and rubs himself with it. Bruce is watching timidly as Tony's hand is placed around his torso. With Bruce's forearms pressed against the wall, Tony enters him and begins thrusting, gaining speed and, seemingly, more force.

_Ouch,_ Banner thinks to himself. _It's like he's trying to break down a door the way he's pushing._ Tony moans, enjoying himself despite the angry thrusting. But all Bruce can do is worry - as usual. _Is he... is he frustrated? I mean, I know it's been a while but-_Another surge of pain interrupts his thought process. "Mmm, slower, baby, slower." He tries to appear engaged. Thankfully, Tony isn't thrusting quite as hard now, and it's actually starting to feel pleasurable. After some time, Tony comes, and Bruce's moaning has reached its peak. Bruce turns to kiss the radiantly smiling playboy behind him. Their teeth clash and Tony bites Banner's lip charmingly. Still turned on, Bruce begins running his hands over Stark's bulging muscles. He pours shampoo into his lover's hair and begins massaging it, and then moves on to washing himself.

When both men are clean and satisfied, Tony turns off the water to look at Bruce's dripping body. _Perfect,_ he decides. _He's perfect._

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Bruce wakes to the sound of Tony thrashing under their shared sheets. _Not again. Not now. Please, Tony. Wake up,_ Bruce urges mentally. "Tony!" This time he commands it.

The wild-eyed Iron Man wakes up in a panic. "The suit!" He wails. "The suit!" There are tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. "I have to protect you. Have to."

"Tony, listen to me. The suit isn't here. I am safe. You are safe."

Stark, still bewildered, gazes at Banner with the look of a frightened child.

Bruce takes the muscular torso of the frightened man in his arms and sighs deeply with a dismal understanding. "I know it's hard," he soothes.

"No." Tony argues suddenly, anger building in his voice. "You don't know. You don't know what it's like to be scared _all the time_. You don't know what it's like to have random bouts of_crippling_ anxiety and still be expected to wake up in the morning each day as if everything is fucking A-Okay." Tony pulls the covers over his head and balls himself up in the smooth sheets, rocking back and forth.

"Tony, I can see you."

"No, you can't."

"Oh, yeah? Who's the kid now?"

"This isn't the time for that discussion." Tony whips the blankets from himself. "And I am not some stupid kid." He takes a stab at Banner's chest. Anger flashes in the scientist's eyes. But rather than getting angry and doing who knows what, Bruce manages to calm down.

"You're right," he admits. "I don't know what it's like to have panic attacks like you. But I do know what it's like to feel out of control. That you're not even in control of your own mind or your body. To be scared you'll be..._different_ in front of the ones you love. And feeling like you have to protect everyone, but you just..._can't_. I do know what that's like, Tony."

Tony blinks. "I'm sorry... I just... I can't..."

"I know."

Tears begin to leak from Tony's eyes as Bruce takes him back into his arms. Tony's body shudders silently against his. This is the first time Bruce has seen the confident playboy cry, and it's enough to bring tears to his eyes.

_No, I have to stay strong. For Tony._


	2. Babysitting

Steve Rogers sits at Bruce and Tony's kitchen table, stroking Ralphie and watching baseball.

"Turn that off," Tony grumbles.

"Tony, be nice to Steven. He's offered to come stay here while I'm away." Bruce reprimands.

"I don't need a damn babysitter."

"I- if I may, I'm not a babysitter. It's just… Bruce says you, um, need some help with, err-" Rogers stammers.

"With what? Spit it out!" Tony rarely gets along with Steve.

"-with some mechanical work. I'm good at working with my hands – that is, if you don't mind."

"N-no. Not at all." Tony looks at his lover with stern suspicion, then focuses on the television screen. "Mechanical work, huh."

"Alright, I have to go." Bruce plants a kiss on Tony's cheek. "You take care, okay?"

Tony nods. "Wait! I, um, forgot- "Stark runs into the living room and comes back with a small box wrapped in silver paper and a matching bow. The wrapping work is a bit sloppy; he did it himself. Embarrassed to be doing this in front of Steve, Tony thrusts the package at Bruce and blushes. "Open it."

Bruce takes off the bow and paper and opens the box to find a pair of dog tags with his name on them. "What-"

Tony tried to look as nonchalant as possible while Bruce was unwrapping his gift, since they have an audience, but he abandons that plan. He comes closer and leans in so their foreheads touch. "You're the bravest person I know. Like- like a soldier," he glances at Steve. "But- but not."

Bruce looks down at the tags again and notices that on one, there is information, but on the other, where identifying information would also be written, there is a message: _To a brave man with a Hulk-sized heart._

Tony places the chain around the scientist's neck. "Be careful."

Bruce nods. "I will." He pulls his chin up and presses his lips against Tony's, gently at first. Then, the playboy's tongue travels into his mouth, and explores, just as Bruce's does. The two engage in a fleeting, passionate kiss; Steve turns away with a smirk on his face.

After Banner departs, Tony sits back at the table with his head in his arms.

"It's just business. He'll be back in two weeks, tops," Steve chuckles.

"Shut up," is all that Tony can manage before stomping off.

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"Tony?" Steve knocks on the bedroom door.

"What." Tony's lying on his and Bruce's bed, drawing plans with a holograph simulator.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure, boy scout, what's the trouble? Tent won't go up?"

Steve ignores the satirical remark and opens the door. "Do you want to… go out? You haven't been out of the house in days. I thought we could see a movie… or something." _Don't push it. Banner said just to ask._

"A movie." Tony arches an eyebrow. "There's a theater downstairs. Go watch in there." He turns back to the holograph.

"No, I mean, we should do something. Like, outside… or in town."

"Want to go camping?" Tony quips with his ever-present sarcasm. "I'm sure you're a well-qualified Eagle."

Steve sighs and laughs dryly. "Why do I even bother?"

Tony looks at him and shuts off the holograph simulator decidedly. "I'll get my jacket."

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"Lovely movie, don't you think?"

"If you like that sort of thing."

They had been forced to see a romantic comedy together because it would be creepy if two grown men went to see a kids' movie, and Steve was not about to take any chances with an action film.

"Oh, come on, it was sweet."

"It's just like every romantic comedy out there. Guy meets girl, he falls in love with her, she hates him. He asks her out, and she eventually breaks down and says '_yes, I will go out with you, creepy yet cute guy, who is way too into me'_" Tony puts on a falsetto, which makes Steve laugh. "Always the same story, always in a city, always has a happy ending."

"Like you and Doctor Banner?"

Tony takes a sip of his soda. "Depends on who you peg as the girl."

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_What do I do. What do I do. Oh my gosh, he looks like he's going to vomit._

Steve is in the garage. He'd been working with Tony ever since Banner left, but he'd started to get the vibe that Tony would rather be alone. However, Tony's been in there for what seems like a long time, and Bruce said to check up on him once in a while. The captain came just in time to see that Tony is sitting in the old car he got from who knows where, white as a ghost, hyperventilating. Instinctively, Rogers runs over and opens the driver's side door; equally as instinctively, Tony pushes the concerned soldier out of his way and positions himself against the side of the car.

_How does Banner do this? Okay, he told me...what did he say exactly?_

"_He's going to have an irrational fear. It is very, very real to him; don't tell him otherwise. It's about New York. It's always about New York. Don't mention New York. If he lets you, take him somewhere safe. If he's standing, sit with him. Be reassuring. Make him feel safe. It's like war inside his mind. Don't pressure or coerce him, but when he's calm enough, you can suggest he build something; it helps sometimes. Oh, and the breathing. I almost forgot. Try to get him breathing steadily. Counting, paper bags... okay, maybe not paper bags for Tony. But cool things help; he's going to be really, really warm. And most importantly: do not leave him alone, under any circumstances."_

_Right. Okay, I can do this._

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Back in the garage of Stark and Banner's house, a certain very sweaty, billionaire mechanic lies under a large truck on a handmade board with wheels on the bottom. (Much to Steve's protest, but who's going to try and stop Tony Stark? Seriously.)

"Hey! Captain!"

"Yes?" Steve pokes his head in the doorway.

"Get me that wrench over there. Just set it down on that toolbox."

Steve obeys, eyeing Tony's protruding hips curiously. "Tony."

"Mhmm?" There is a tool clenched between his teeth – probably the wrench.

"Are you- have you been eating?"

"No time."

"Tony."

"What?" Stark's exasperation is evident. He slides out from under the car. There are bags under his eyes, and he's covered from head to toe in grease. It looks as if he hasn't shaved in days, nor brushed his disheveled mass of hair.

"Come on, I made lunch. You can clean up before we eat."

"I'm fine," Tony slides back under the car.

"I'm serious, Tony. Let's go."

"I think I'll just skip out on this one, Cap." He states defiantly.

"Come _on_," Rogers pulls the greasy mechanic out by his legs.

"Don't. Don't do that." Stark appears nervous now.

"Why not?" Steve towers over him as he lies on the board.

"Be-because." He's stuttering.

Concerned and confused, Rogers leans down to help Tony up. "Come on," he instructs less forcefully. "Let's get you cleaned up."

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Later that night, after Tony was supposed to be asleep, he sneaks downstairs to work in the garage when he hears Steve on the phone with Bruce.

"It's getting worse, Doctor. He won't eat or sleep or groom himself-"

_Wow, way to make me sound like a dog._

"-and when I tried to get him out from underneath the car, he panicked." Rogers pauses. "No, not full-on panicked. He did, though-" He lowers his voice "-once, a couple days ago. It was... frightening." He listens. "I don't know exactly how long it lasted. I came in to the garage and he- he was in the car, just sitting there. His eyes were wide open, and when I opened the door, he pushed me out of the way." More silence. "I got him out of the house once. After that, nothing. He misses you, Bruce. And I don't think he knows what to do."

Tony picks up his headset and taps into the phone line.

"Should I come home?" Bruce asks both wearily and sincerely. _Tony used to have trouble staying __**out**__ of the spotlight._

_Bruce sounds so... tired. And it's all my fault._

"No, I wouldn't. It's only until the end of the we-" Steve takes the phone from his ear, and Tony hides himself further in the shadows. "Hold on." He says to Bruce. "Tony?" Steve says loudly, directed towards the stairs where the exhausted playboy resides. Rogers turns back to the phone. "No, I just thought I heard him. I got him to eat today and shower and shave, and he was supposed to **go to bed**." That part was obviously directed towards Tony.

Stark clicks off his headset and slinks back upstairs. Settling into bed, Tony buries his face in Bruce's pillow and breathes in his lingering scent. Within minutes, he breaks down. With sticky tears marking his cheeks and the pillow, Tony falls into a deep slumber. Though he would never admit it, Tony was far more rundown than the beater he was trying to fix.

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Sunlight: it's blinding stuff, Tony figures out. Upon waking up, he realizes there are rays shining through his ever so tasteful drapery. _It's much... brighter than usual,_ Tony thinks. Though perhaps that's because he never sleeps, so he has time to adjust. The sound of cracking and popping joints follows him down the stairs. Steve sits at the kitchen table, fully dressed in his _stupid_ button-down shirt and khaki pants. _What a boy scout._

"Good morning."

"Mornin'." The rumpled philanthropist empties the pot of coffee into a large mug.

"You're up late."

"Late?" Tony stares at the clock with disbelief. It's two in the afternoon.

"You certainly slept soundly." Steve can't hide a smile Tony wants to slap right off his stupid, perfectly groomed face.

"You mean I didn't-"

"Not even once."

This was the first time Tony had slept soundly in months. He gulps down some coffee. _Holy shit._


	3. Safety First

Dr. Bruce Banner wakes up in a small room with concrete walls in Uzbekistan; he is startled and drenched with sweat. Disoriented by his whereabouts, the doctor sits up and scans the room. There are people sleeping here, covering almost the entire expanse of floor space with old mattresses and cots similar to his, as well as some bunk beds that are obviously handmade. Additionally, Bruce can feel someone staring at him. He searches the room again, his eyes settling on those of a small girl about ten years old.

"Why are you awake, Doctor?" She asks in native Uzbek.

He hesitates. "I- I left a man at home. I worry he is not well." He swallows, still a bit short of breath. The girl nods and climbs over the sleeping people until she is at his bedside. "You care about this man?"

Bruce nods. "I love him."

"Perhaps you should go to him then. If he is truly not well, he will want you there."

"I can't leave." He shakes his head. "I am needed here."

She looks at him knowingly. "Everywhere there are people in need, but not everywhere are there people we love."

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The front door to Bruce and Tony's home opens with a bang. Instinctively, Steve rushes to the front entrance, relieved to see Dr. Banner lugging his suitcase inside.

"Welcome home, Doctor." He smiles. "Here, let me help you."

Bruce closes the door behind them. "Thank you so much, Captain. I don't know what I would have done without you."

Steve gets the hint: he isn't talking about the suitcase. "No problem, sir." It couldn't be more official unless he saluted.

"Well, if it isn't Dr. Bruce Banner, humanitarian and genius gamma radiation specialist, who, from what I've heard, also knows his way around the bedroom." Tony Stark appears behind Steve, walking in a sort of calculated way towards the two men. He smirks devilishly, secretly ecstatic to see his lover home.

Bruce's worry is solaced somewhat by this display. "Hey!" Right now, he can't contain his underlying excitement like Tony can and quickly drops the bag from his shoulder to embrace the devious mechanic. "I missed you." Bruce murmurs.

"Yeah, well, you know, me and Cap can only stand each other for so long," he casually remarks.

Steve grins at this demonstration and takes his cue. "I'm going to go make dinner, if that's alright will you two. JARVIS has taught me to use the kitchen quite well."

"Oh, no, you don't have to! I thought I could make something. In appreciation." Bruce pulls away from Tony and starts back towards his luggage. "I'll just put this stuff to go upstairs, and then I'll make you something special. Just some recipes I picked up on my trip."

Tony shrugs. "Sounds good to me."

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After Steve departs and Tony promises to send him a gift basket, the two lovebirds head upstairs.

"What the hell happened in here?" Banner asks incredulously, referring to the mess their room had become.

"You left." Tony shrugs.

Bruce laughs. "You couldn't at least keep _my _side clean?"

"Nope." Stark grins and casts his shirt into a pile of dirty clothes. "I'd rather see you get angry. You know, _really _angry."

"You're a little mental, you know that?" Bruce climbs into bed and snuggles against his lover.

"I know." They both lean in for a long-awaited kiss. Bruce nips at Tony's bottom lip and then his throat as he works his way down.

"It's been a while," the playboy utters between passionate gasps.

"You think?"

Nearly at his navel, the light touch of Banner's lips elicits moans so deep within Tony that he shudders beneath the scientist, who grins and purrs into another tongue-tied kiss. His fingers quiver as he goes to unclasp Tony's obnoxious belt buckle. The philanthropist smiles at the sight of his lover's bashful nature showing through. Tony covers Bruce's trembling hands with his own and unbuckles the belt himself. Pushing against Bruce's shoulders, Tony forces them both to tumble over so that he is on top; Tony Stark is not often a bottom. He untucks Bruce's button-down shirt and practically rips the buttons from the fabric. For a second, Tony just looks at Bruce, his eyes hungry, searching. Bruce must have worn the dog tags under his shirt because they are hanging from his neck. Tony grins despite himself and kisses the man with surprising force.

Banner is taken aback slightly. _I guess he must have missed me._

Tony grunts into his lovers mouth, as if answering his thoughts. He pulls away and opens his nightstand drawer and takes out a bottle of lubricant. Bruce reaches for the bottle and takes it from Tony; he begins rubbing it on his partner, who is obviously enjoying the sensation. When Tony is fully erect, Bruce lays back facedown the bed and lets Stark have at it. It starts with feeling of fingers near and inside his entrance, which is only a bit painful.

"Are you ready?" Tony breathes.

"More than you know."

As Tony enters him, Bruce winces a little. They'd had sex often enough, but this time it is desperate – almost as desperate as that time in the shower just a few weeks prior. Then Tony hit the sweet spot, and a loud moan escapes Bruce's mouth. He isn't the most vocal person – that's more Tony's thing – but sometimes it's as if the cunning playboy knows his boyfriend's body better than he does. He hits him again and again with each thrust; Tony enjoys hearing the noises Bruce makes. He reaches around and grasps Bruce's penis, stroking it in an enticing rhythm. Then, almost too quickly, or perhaps not quickly enough, Tony releases inside him, and it's enough to throw Bruce over the edge as well.

Tony lies on the bed next to Bruce; the sound of their heavy breathing fills the air. "You're too good to me." He turns to look at the disheveled scientist.

"Me?" Bruce replies flirtatiously. "I was about to say the same to you." He leans in for a teeth-clashing kiss.

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Still suffering from jet lag, Bruce is left lying awake while Tony snores quietly on the other end of the bed. Steve said he'd been sleeping soundly for a while, explaining the phenomenon as if Tony were an infant who'd just begun sleeping through the night. It was curious, really, but then again, it was sort of what Bruce had wanted Tony to gain – the ability to cope. It was like when he'd first moved in and found Tony's stash of liquor. He'd removed most of it almost immediately. It had been their deal, and the stubborn philanthropist had adapted surprisingly quickly. Then the massive amount of suits came along, and, well, Tony Stark was and is someone Bruce feels more than willing to look after. _Beyond keeping him happy, I want to see him safe._

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"Are you fucking kidding me? Tony! Get down here!" Bruce is standing in their well-finished basement - that was once an elaborate workshop - vibrating with anger.

_Woah. Someone's unusually cranky today. For a shy guy he unscrews pretty crazily even when the Other Guy doesn't step in. _Tony clambers down the stairs, his hair still a mess from the night previous. "What?" He stops cold.

The now mad looking scientist clutches pieces of another Mark edition in his hand. "You promised," Bruce warns through gritted teeth. "You promised me you wouldn't build another suit until you got your shit sorted out. Which one is this, huh? Which edition are we up to now? This is why we had the suits locked away, Tony. How could you be so- so _stupid_?" His voice rises until he's shouting, and his eyes have a strange sort of glow to their already vibrant green.

"Bruce…"

"No, Tony! I don't want excuses. I want to know why you would even attempt to test yourself. To test me. You wanna know something? _This_ is why I came back early. I _knew_ something would happen, and I would have to save your ass again." He laughs humorlessly.

"Bruce, if you could just put down that piece you've got right there, we could talk about it, okay?" Tony tries his best to appear calm. When he said he wanted to see Bruce angry, he didn't mean… well, he didn't quite know what he meant.

"Why, Tony? What does it do?" Bruce is testing his limits here; his voice is lower and shaky. "Does it ruin things like me? Does it mend parts of you that you didn't know existed? Does it make you feel good inside to know you have something so destructive just lying around the house?" He advances until he's staring right into the large brown eyes of the frightened mechanic, a finger placed in the middle of his chest. It's psychological warfare.

Suddenly, there is a click, and the piece of machinery fractures apart, splitting every which way. The two men hit the ground as dust clouds the room and pieces of metal bounce off the walls, puncturing holes in every surface and shattering the glass and plaster of various expensive items. Tony scrambles to the wall, curling against it in shock. Bruce is still in the middle of the floor, face down, convulsing.

"Bruce!" Tony yells over the commotion.

The scientist emits a deep growl in response.

_Shit._

Tony runs for the stairs, shielding his face with one arm. As he reaches the top of the stairs, Stark realizes this is going to be _bad_. A thunderous roar sounds along with huge footsteps that shake the ground beneath his feet. The Hulk is now in the basement. The door is too small for him to get out, thankfully, but what to do in the mean time? And after that? Sure, items are replaceable and so are pants, but Bruce Banner is not. _What if I lose him? Just because he's the most important thing - okay, the only thing - in my life, doesn't mean I should be his. He shouldn't have to go through all of this because of me._

Tony's breathing becomes harsh the more he thinks about it.

Therein is born a very sad sort of plan.

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After a great deal of agonizing silence, Tony creeps downstairs. Bruce Banner lies on the basement floor, breathless and without clothing.

"I feel so naked." Some of the familiar humor in Bruce's voice has been restored, though he seems to be talking about more than just a shirt and some pants.

Stark naked?" Tony quips, gesturing towards the Stark Industries logo that is now cracked in half.

"Very funny." Bruce grabs the clothes Tony hands him, pulling them on in haste. "Just in case you were wondering, I'm still mad at you."

"Woah there, buddy. We already have to buy a new couch." Tony tries to lighten the mood.

Banner scans the room. "Yeah, sorry about that," he agrees in a non-committal tone.

Tony reaches his hand out to help Bruce up but is ignored. He closes his fist and lets it fall to the side. The scientist pushes himself up and trots up the stairs.

"Bruce!" Tony calls after him. He's met with the sound of a closing door. Stark surveys the room, and his eyes meet what he thinks is a shiny remainder of Mark 43. He goes closer, bending down for a closer look. _Dog tags._

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That night, Bruce knocks on the door of the master bathroom. The shower is running. _It's a bit late to be taking a shower… _Bruce shrugs to himself, remembering who he's thinking about_._ "Hey, Tony. I'm sorry about earlier." He scratches the back of his neck. "I just- I want you to be safe. That's all." Feeling a bit more confident, he knocks again. "Mind if I join you in there?"

No answer.

"Tony?" Bruce hears a crash. "Tony! Unlock the door!" He struggles with the knob and then backs up to slam his body against the door. Nothing happens. "JARVIS, unlock the bathroom door." His voice is hoarse, pleading.

"Of course, sir."

He hears a click and throws the door open.

Tony is lying on the tile floor, unconscious. Steam clouds the room.

_No. This cannot be happening. Please, Tony. Stay alive. Please._


	4. Therapeutic Realisations

Bruce must have called an ambulance because paramedics came and pried Tony from his arms. He must have seen the lights and heard the sirens outside. He must have told them what happened because now he's sitting in the ambulance with a blanket wrapped around his trembling shoulders. He must have done the right things, but he couldn't remember. He could hardly feel a thing.

"Doctor Banner. Doc- Doctor Banner! Are you alright?" A concerned paramedic attempts to get his attention.

"Help him! Not me!" He's nearly shouting over the pulse in his ears. "Help him," Bruce mutters sadly. He gives them all the information they ask for, and then repeats some of it once they get to the hospital.

There might have been cameras outside the hospital, but all Bruce could see was bright, almost blinding light flashing. Like lightning. Like Thor was coming down to help. Somebody had to help. _Anybody_.

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I _knew_, Captain. I knew something was going to happen. That's why I came back early. There were still two days left, but I-" Bruce stammers, his body still shaking uncontrollably. After Bruce was told to leave Tony's hospital room, he immediately called Steve, apologetically asking him to come to the hospital. The two men are sitting on sad, grey chairs in a surprisingly sparsely filled waiting room.

"You were just doing what you had to do, Doctor." Rogers pats him on the back, hesitantly, in an attempt to comfort the distraught scientist. "You did the right thing."

"But I… I let the Other Guy out," he whispers.

"I know. Tony told me."

Bruce stares at him incredulously.

"Yeah, I was surprised too," the Captain chuckles. He pauses and his face turns serious. "He was on the cusp of another attack, so he called me and told me what happened."

"You've done so much for us." The Doctor doesn't quite know how to put his appreciation into words.

"I'm just glad to help."

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All there is to do is wait. Wait. The nurses told Bruce he could be in the room once he calmed down, so he took a few deep breaths and focused on the fact that Tony was alive. He takes a seat in the chair next to Stark's bed - just waiting. Steve had been keeping him company, but Banner told him to go home. He was grateful to have such a good friend, but the Captain had done more than enough. Bruce keeps turning from Tony to his watch and back. Over and over. His leg is shaking absently as he searches his pocket for the comforting touch of engraved writing on his beloved dog tags beneath his fingers.

Bruce turns to his unconscious boyfriend yet again. The man's face is placid, which further calms Bruce's apprehension for some strange reason. He can see wrinkles forming in the corners of his eyes. Tony's chest rises and falls steadily. There is a tube running from Tony's nose to an oxygen tank, and all sorts of wires trail from his skin. A heart monitor beeps to the rhythm of a broken heart that was once kept beneath chunks of metal. In the depths of exhaustion, Bruce falls asleep.

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Suddenly, Bruce is awakened by a loud grunt. And a sigh. And a bit of a cough as Tony Stark blinks and looks around.

"Tony." Tears form in Banner's eyes as he reaches for his lover's hand.

Stark's cracked lips spread in a small smile that disappears as Bruce finally breaks down. _He's usually so… private. _It's hard to watch and hard for Tony not to begin tearing up himself. Bruce turns his back to Tony, who reaches out to grasp the sobbing scientist's shoulder. He falls short.

"Bruce…" His voice is low and words barely escape his throat.

Banner wipes the tears from his eyes before facing him, and he grasps Tony's hand, bending down a bit closer so their eyes meet. "Marry me, Tony." Bruce whispers, squeezing the haggard mechanic's hand.

"What?" Tony gulps, the color draining from his already paled face.

"Marry me," he repeats.

Tony is speechless for once in his life. "Why?" He finally rasps.

"Because I love you, stupid." Bruce teases him tenderly, his hand grazing the other man's face. There are lingering tears in the scientist's eyes despite the grin on his face.

"Well, you shouldn't." Tony's breath catches in his throat, and his voice wavers a bit.

"Why not?" Bruce's familiar concern comes in a wave that shadows his face.

"You're talking to a guy in a hospital bed being treated for severe anxiety, depression, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder-" Tony pronounces in a mockingly official way. "-and trying to take his own life by- by-"

"Swallowing every single one of his boyfriend's antidepressants? You know, because I'm just the poster child for stability." Bruce laughs dryly.

The dusty wheels that had been left untouched finally begin turning in Tony Stark's dense cranium. This time, he is listening to Bruce, and he finally understands. They match up. In every way, opposite or parallel, the two men are pairs with a bond that is seemingly unbreakable. All the difficult emotions Tony was desperately trying to repress - pain, sadness, love, and concern - Bruce felt them, too. Stark squeezes his lover's hand in return.

Unfortunately, a tired, young doctor with a pressed white coat and disheveled blond hair interrupts their little moment. "Hello, Mr. Stark, Dr. Banner."

The three men nod at each other.

"I'm Dr. Blake. You can call me Donald."

Tony brightens. "Well, Donald, this here is my fiancé. You can call him Bruce. Few people do, but you seem like an alright kind of guy." Regular old Tony Stark is starting to seep through again as he smiles his old, confident, almost cocky - okay, really cocky - smile.

Bruce raises a smile back. _It will take some time- and some therapy, maybe couple's therapy as well - but before we know it, he'll be back on his feet... and I'll have new meds. We should probably stop to pick those up._

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The first session doesn't go so great, which is understandable.

After some introductions and small talk, they delve into more serious matters. "Today, I don't want to talk about the more recent events in New York. I want to go even farther back – to Afghanistan," offers the female therapist, whose name Tony can't quite remember.

The normally talkative philanthropist laughs nervously. "Or we could talk about something more relevant."

"No, I'd like to hear about it," Bruce urges.

"That's alright. If Tony doesn't want to talk about it, then he doesn't have to," Doctor Blondie assures – but that doesn't keep Tony from thinking about it. His mind reels. His heart beats in his ears.

_Can anyone else feel the room getting hotter? _Stark begins fumbling for his own chest. The reactor isn't there. It's not there.

"Tony!" The therapist is calling through the white haze in front of him. "Tony!"

_I'm drowning again. I can't breathe. They took it from me. They took it. _His head snaps up. "I think that's enough for today, Doc." The playboy shakes hands with the confused therapist and exits the office – which feels much too small to be able to breathe in.

"Tony!" Bruce calls to no avail. "I'm sorry," he confides.

The therapist nods. "You're a doctor, right?"

The scientist is confused. "Not your kind of-"

"I know, but I think he needs more help than I can offer. I can't give him the medication he needs."

_Medication?_

"You two should see me every two weeks," she dictates while writing. "And just Tony once a week. Also, see a psychiatrist."

"Thank you for your time." He leaves, a bit deflated. _I suppose it's a small penance to pay. At least I have him back; that's what really matters._

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"I'll take anything." Tony agrees seriously. They're sitting in one of Tony's cars, still outside the therapist's office.

Bruce was expecting opposition. "Really?"

"I saw… how much pain you were in. At the hospital. I can't let that happen again."

"Well, you did scare me quite a bit." Banner looks at his hands. "And in back in there…" He mutters, referring to the failed visit to the therapist.

"I just couldn't… handle it." He lets a hand slide across his face. Difficult things were not easy for him to talk about; he'd much rather ignore them. After he stopped drinking, that became harder than ever.

"Will you ever tell me about what happened in that cave?"

Tony turns to him. "Yeah, I will. Someday. But not today." He puts the car in drive.

_Well, at least that's something._

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"Tonight is movie night." Banner announces. It's been a week since the incident and since the question was popped and five days since Tony started on some medication with a name that's hard to pronounce even for two geniuses.

Tony looks up from the television screen with surprise. He's watching cartoons – much to Bruce's amusement. "What are we watching?"

"I thought you could choose." Bruce plops himself down on the couch. Tony takes refuge in his chest and starts flipping through movie channels and playing with the familiar dog tags around Bruce's neck. Bruce begins stroking his hair.

"Did you put in hair spray today?" He asks with a curious grin.

Tony settles on a black and white film – probably a Chaplin. The opening credits appear on the screen. "Shhh... I'm watching this."


End file.
